


break free

by obsessivelymoody



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M, RuPaul's Drag Race AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 21:37:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20142370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obsessivelymoody/pseuds/obsessivelymoody
Summary: Dan is a competitor on the first season of RuPaul's Drag Race UK.





	1. art attack

**Author's Note:**

> This fic holds a special place in my heart. I really fell so deeply in love with this world and the Dan and Phil in it, as well as the OCs I had the opportunity to slide in. God, it was hard to write, but I'm so glad I did it, and I couldn't have done it without the lovely people who held my hand through this. 
> 
> A huge thank you to Nov for the amazing art that inspired this fic, and for being such a kind and lovely cheerleader through this <3 You can find them on [twitter](https://twitter.com/dnovep) and [tumblr](https://dnovep.tumblr.com/)!! 
> 
> And a massive thank you to [nihilismdan](http://nihilismdan.tumblr.com/), [schiefergrau](http://schiefergrau.tumblr.com/), and [ataraxia25](https://twitter.com/ataraxia25) for holding my hand and supporting me and letting me know the fic isn't awful. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy :D

"Tell us a bit about yourself, about Yazi."

“Yazi is like, this part of me that nobody else really gets to see. I can hide behind the makeup and wigs and...just be me. Or I guess whoever I want to be. I can be loud and obnoxious and do whatever the fuck I feel like doing without feeling judged because Yazi is a character, and people _know_ that. It's nice to be her."

*

Dan takes a deep breath before nodding yes to the crew member asking if he's ready to go. If he doesn't go now, he's not sure he'll ever be ready to. 

So he breathes in and trains his eyes on the bright pink double doors, sticking a leg out through the slit in his dress. 

He’s given a countdown from three until the doors open and he steps into the workroom. He makes sure to move with his hips, using the padding over his hips and ass—his favourite padding, actually—to its full advantage. He walks with every bit of goddess he has in him, and fuck he hopes it makes an impression. 

“I’m here, I’m queer, I’m filled with exsitential fear, and well—I’m Yazi, dears.” He dramatically flicks his hand up to rest his chin on, sitting on his hip and staring ahead at the giant pop art painting of RuPaul in front of him. 

“Alright bitch, come on over then!” A voice calls to his left, and he turns to see nine other queens gathered around the far table. 

Great. He’s last to come in. Meaning he’s going to be remembered like that. Meaning that he’s either okay or royally fucked up his first impressions with these girls. He even wore his second best dress! Black sequins dripping with gold jewelry and knock-off spiked Louboutins, and he’s got a corset laced so tight he can barely breathe. And—

Fuck. Holy _fuck_. Dan almost stops in his tracks as he approaches the table, seeing Phila fucking Mint leaning against it. 

He’s going to have heart failure. He can’t even believe he’s in the same room as her, let alone in an entire competition that will ensure they see each other for at least a week! 

He makes polite conversation with the other girls, and learns that the queen who called him over—Queenie Q—is a self-proclaimed loud mouth. Dan wants to roll his eyes, but he doesn’t want to come off as a bitch right off the bat. Besides, Phila Mint is right across the table from him, and he barely even wants to tilt his head to his ‘bad’ side in case she’s looking at him. 

Dan just wants to calm down, really. But right now he’s walking over with the other girls to get instructions for their first challenge from RuPaul himself, and all he can think about is Phila standing a few feet away. He should be thinking about the competition, about how to beat these girls and stay in the race but he’s far too preoccupied. 

Phila was one of the first queens he ever saw, browsing on parts of the internet when he shouldn’t have as a confused and lost kid. She was out there and doing whatever the fuck she wanted and it was _inspiring_. Now she’s one of the most popular internet queens in the UK, and Dan really feels like he’s going to wet himself around her. 

He takes a deep breath in, training his thoughts away from her. Now is not the time. He needs to focus on the race. 

*

Their first challenge is a classic, something they do at the start of every season and have since the beginning—a photography challenge. 

“I wonder what they’re going to have us do,” says Fannie at his elbow, a short queen from the Midlands who claims she can’t do anything unless she has a blonde wig on her head. 

“Yeah,” Dan says absently. “Could be anything.” 

Fannie tsks. “Always unpredictable this show, innit?” 

He agrees with her, and she opens her mouth to say something else when Nina Cross, a queen hailing from Ghana with a thick accent to match, marches by them covered in…red sequins? Gold party string? Her wig is askew, and Dan knows it wasn’t like that earlier in the day. 

What the fuck could they be doing for this challenge? 

Dan doesn’t have much longer to wonder because soon enough he’s being called onto set. 

Set happens to be an ornate looking room, covered in plush velvet and gold. 

“Hello Yazi,” Ru greets him as he walks into the room. 

“Hello RuPaul,” he says, flashing him a bright smile. 

He’s introduced to the photographer, and is told that in order to show how _queen_ he is, he’s going to have to survive the test of staying glamorous for the camera while a royal bash goes on around him. 

Royal bash means Dan gets to use the set however he wants to while they’ve got an industrial fan set as high as possible while they throw sequins and various party decorations in his face. 

“Work it, baby,” Ru calls out during the shoot. “Make that camera your bitch, darling.” 

Dan wants to laugh, but thankfully he stays composed, hoping the camera is getting the sultry expression he’s trying to give off. 

Soon he’s whisked away, thanking Ru and the photographer, and is back in the workroom to change out of drag and learn what the next challenge is. 

*

The runway challenge this week is based on Art Attack, meaning they have to create an outfit out of the random art supplies they’ve been provided with in the workroom. And _only_ out of the art supplies. 

Dan’s thankful that because it’s the first week they only have to do the photography and runway challenges. If he makes it to next week—and the weeks after that—he won’t be as lucky with a mini challenge to start off the week, a main challenge to give him hell, and the typical runway challenge to top it all off. But now’s not the time to worry about that. He has to make it through this first week, after all. 

And the cherry on top is that somehow he’s ended up at a workstation right in front of Phila’s. He _really_ hopes he doesn’t make a fool out of himself, not with her right there. 

It’s weird, to be chosen for this show and have all that feel surreal and weird and undeserving only to have that really slap Dan harder when Phila Mint ends up here with him. 

Dan’s too much of a fanboy for this shit. He already had to take time to prep himself to be in the same room as RuPaul, let alone his literal teenage crush and icon. 

Whatever, he tells himself. He’s twenty-six years old, not sixteen anymore. He’s _fine_, he can handle this. Even if Phila is right behind him, looking as striking out of drag as he does in it. 

And he manages. At least until— 

“That looks cool.” A voice calls from behind him during a lull in the workroom. 

Dan turns to see Phila—or Phil, he supposes—looking over at Dan’s mannequin where he’s covering a corset with diamonds of black felt. 

“Like scales or something,” Phila continues, smiling at Dan. 

“T-thanks,” _Fuck sake’s, you idiot_. “I figured diamonds would cover the surface the best.” 

Phila nods. “I’m interested to see how it turns out. Kinda want a corset like that myself now.” 

“Thanks,” Dan laughs, hoping it sounds natural. His nerves are running haywire. “Your gown is fucking phenomenal.” 

Phila blushes, running a hand over the bit of wallpaper used on the bustle. It’s a proper mixed media dress, with a corset that looks like some kind of technicolour Picasso that flows into a waterfall train of god knows what. 

“Seriously,” Dan says, trying to keep his voice neutral and away from any kind of anxious high pitch. “It’s so...high fashion. Not even sugar coating. I know my high fashion.” 

“I bet you do,” he says, his face flushed. “Thank you. I’m glad you like it. I wasn’t sure at first but—it’s a competition, but feedback is nice.” 

Dan agrees, and gives Phila a smile, waiting until he goes back to his table to let out a quiet breath of relief for being able to talk to him like a normal person. 

“She’s right, you know, darling.” 

Dan looks up to see Che Duh, who’s working in front of his station, leaning against her table. 

“You think?” Dan asks, and Che Duh nods, tucking a few of the thin dreads that fell in her face behind her ear. 

“You have a weird lean towards black things,” she says with a smirk. “But a definite eye for fashion, love.”

“That’s really nice of you to say,” he says. 

Che Duh shrugs. “I’m nice, love. I say what’s true. You’re welcome to compliment _my_ garment now, if you care to.” 

Dan laughs. “It _is_ gorgeous.” 

He’s not even being nice about it. It objectively is, a stunning mustard piece that looks straight out of Ancient Greece. 

“You can call me Che,” she says, holding out a hand to him. 

He takes it, smiling at her and thinking about how awfully fortunate he is to be sandwiched between her and Phila. 

“Yazi or Yaz. Dan in the real world. It’s nice to meet you.” 

“You too, love.” She smiles, clapping her hands twice. “Now, we best get back to our dresses, no?” 

*

Dan’s first time walking the runway to show off his creation—the felt-covered corset with wide panniers made of black pipe cleaners attached at his hips and going to his mid thigh where metallic strips of paper hang off the pipe cleaners over layered black tights—is surreal. 

The runway set isn’t very different from the original in the US and as soon as Dan is directed up the small flight of stairs and told to go, he feels a floaty panic bubble in his chest. He’s worried he’s going to slip and eat shit as soon as he steps out from behind the wall, worried he’s going to make eye contact with RuPaul herself and go into some kind of cardiac arrest, worried his garment is going to come apart as soon as—

A crew member tells him to breathe, and somehow, it’s grounding. He doesn’t have time to reflect on it before he’s told to start walking the runway, but he breathes and focuses on presenting his clothes and playing the role of Yazi, confident and loud from Reading, and a little stuck in gothic looks but always, always glamorous. Always on point, and unwaveringly so. 

In front of him is RuPaul, Michelle Visage, Graham Norton, and Alan Carr _plus_ fucking Baby Spice as the guest judge, all sitting in a line, eyes completely focused on him. He thinks Graham makes a rude joke because someone has to, that’s just the nature of the judges panel on drag race, and Ru cackles. 

It’s weird, to be here in front of these people he’s seen on TV for practically his entire life. It’s weird to have the set lights blind him, weird to know the judges are taking notes and whispering about him, weird to just have his black velvet pumps grace this stage at all. 

His time on the runway is over before he can even think too much harder about it. He’s walking back down the stairs, past Phelatio, a boisterous Welsh queen, who’s next up. 

He’s sweating a bit from the lights and someone hands him a bottle of water with a straw in it. He thanks them, sipping eagerly as he joins the line of queens who have already walked the runway. 

It’s a blur, really. He’s there in this moment, but he really feels like he isn’t. Before he knows it he’s being ushered back on stage—this time with all the other competitors—to face the judges critiques. 

Luckily, Dan’s safe. Unfortunately that means he didn’t really get any critique from them, nothing good or bad to hear about to build on. But he’s safe. He’s still in the race. 

And Phila wins. 

Dan’s not surprised; her grown looks magnificent all put together, like an actual work of art from the mixed media corset to the wallpaper and tissue paper bustle that shifts into a waterfall train made of felt and cloth. It’s all kind of colours that Dan would never in a million years image working together but Phila makes it look beautiful. 

The little fanboy in him hardly even cares that he’s only safe in a competition he came to win. He’s happy for her, and damn proud. 

It does hurt, though, to watch the first pair of queens lip sync for their lives. Fannie, who’d spoken to Dan right before their first challenge, and Liz Grey, an older queen who’s been in the London scene for nearly twenty years, are this week’s bottom two. He doesn’t know either of them well enough to hope that one does a better job of their lip sync performance so they stay on the show, but it becomes rapidly apparent that Fannie is not as practiced in performing as Liz is. 

So Ru sends Fannie home and Liz gets to stay another week. 

And Dan’s safe. He made it through the first week. He can hardly believe it but, well, he came to win. So he’ll take being safe for this week. Whatever keeps him in the race and out of the bottom. 

*

“Yaz love, did you want to come to dinner with us?” 

Dan, startled by being addressed in the middle of the hotel lobby all the contestants have been put up in, chokes on the water he was drinking. He turns to see Che Duh—who asked him the question—Blu Velvet, and Maddoria Hart looking at him. He prays that they don’t decide to retract their offer after he nearly coughed up a lung in front of them. 

“Alright darling?” Che asks him. 

“Yeah,” He says. “Yeah, no I’m fine. Dinner sounds nice too!” 

“Great! Got everything you need, love?” 

Dan nods, following them out of the hotel. 

*

He learns quickly that Che usually ends every sentence in a cutesy pet name, and was born and raised in East London. Che is truly as sweet as the pet names he gives, and genuinely so.

Blu Velvet was born in India but grew up in Essex, and funnily enough lives in the same neighbourhood in London as Dan. 

“Weird that we haven’t ran into each other before,” Dan had said. 

“Maybe we have,” Blu waggled his eyebrows. “But we just weren’t all there enough to know it.” 

Maddoria Hart is their resident Scottish queen, complete with blazing red hair and a horrendous sense of humour Dan adores. 

They’re all really lovely people, and Dan’s glad they can all laugh over sushi together. ‘It’s not RuPaul’s best friend race’ is one of those cliché sayings Dan drilled into himself before coming here. He’s introverted enough but put him in a room full of people in the same profession as him and chances are he’ll be loud in no time. It’s a competition, and that’s what he’s here for. No exceptions. 

Dan’s never been one for sticking to the rules though. Even the ones he makes for himself. 

He just hopes he doesn’t get burned for letting people in.


	2. royal mother-to-be

“Are you a fan of the royal family?” 

“I...will choose to keep that opinion to myself!”

*

“Today my queens you will _embody_ a real queen,” Ru flashes them a cheeky smile. “This week your challenge is to become a member of the royal family.”

An excited hush echoes around the room and Dan thinks this will be a cake walk. He’s already got a dress in mind, it’s only a matter of figuring out makeup and accessories. 

“Oh, but here’s the catch,” _Of course there’s a bloody catch_. “You will be tailoring your garments to match your heavily pregnant bodies.” 

The pit crew takes that as their cue to roll in with a large table laden with nine fake pregnancy bellies. 

“Good luck my queens!” Ru calls as he makes his way out of the room. “And don’t fuck it up.” 

*

Half an hour later Dan’s sat at his workstation with a sketchbook open in front of him. Che’s sat next to him, already halfway through a sketch of his own garment, while Dan’s page is completely blank. 

“Alright, love?” Che nudges him. 

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I guess.” 

“You guess?” he narrows his eyes. 

Dan sighs. “I just, ugh, I don’t want it to be plain, you know? I want to stand out but I have literally no ideas.” 

“It’ll come to you, darling! Don’t think on it too hard,” he pats Dan’s shoulder. “Maybe walk around for a second, get some blood circulating.” 

“You’re right. Maybe I’ll go grab some water. Want anything?” 

Che waves him off and Dan gets up, ready to power walk to the nearest drinks table on set when Che’s voice makes him pause. 

“Eager to get that bun in the oven, Phila?” 

Dan looks over at Phila who’s...shirtless and already strapping the fake belly on himself. 

“Thought I’d try it out,” he says. “Get used to it. I always thought it would be interesting if men could get pregnant just like women can.” 

Che laughs and Dan steps closer. 

“Is that because _you_ want to be pregnant?” He blurts without thinking. 

“What,” Che says, still laughing. 

Phila laughs. “You watch my videos?”

A part of Dan wants to back away, tell him no, do anything to deny the fact that he’s literally so deeply invested in Phila’s online personality. But fuck it, he’s already pretty much let it slip. 

“Yeah, have been for years. AmazingPhila is one of the reasons I’m here.” Dan feels himself flush, and hopes it’s not as bright red on his face as it feels. 

“Fascinating,” Che says, and Phila just smiles. 

“Well here I’m just Phil. Or Phila. Doesn’t matter. We’re here for the same reasons, and because of the same reason.” 

“Best of the best, lovies!” exclaims Che. 

“Right,” Dan says, laughing alongside Phila. _Phil_. 

“But yeah I think it would be interesting to be pregnant as a man!” Phil says, changing the subject. 

“And he’s right to think that way,” Nina yells as she crosses the room to them, her own belly already strapped to her torso. “We’ll just work it on the runway, cutting out _all_ you bitches!” 

She links arms with Phil, dragging him into the middle of the work room. They strut down the room, making Che and Dan laugh. A few of the other queens roll their eyes, but the moment breaks the cloud of tension in the workroom since they were assigned the challenge. 

Dan grins at Phil when he comes back to his table and sits down. He smiles back at him, and if it didn’t feel so good Dan would really hate the way Phil smiling at him makes his heart go all funny. 

*

Ru comes in halfway through their day to check in. It goes well for Dan, and apparently for Che and Phil too from what he could hear. 

Relief spreads through his chest, and he finally feels like he can actually do this and make it through. It feels so good, kickstarting this new kind of inspiration in him. 

“Oh, and ladies?” Ru calls out to the workroom before he leaves. Dan’s heart races. 

“Another thing to add to your runway challenge, and what really makes this a main challenge,” he smiles. “You’re getting _papped_. You have to design a storyboard for three shots by the paparazzi, in true royal mother-to-be fashion. The images _must_ tell a story.”

“Maddoria, since you won the mini challenge you get an extra ten minutes with the photographer and set to make your shots pop. Good luck!”

Any confidence or creative inspiration is sucked out of Dan, and he just wants to melt into the table. Looking around the room, he can see that the other girls are feeling much of the same way as him. 

Ugh. Back into his sketchbook he goes. 

*

Thankfully, Dan receives nothing but compliments from the judges the night they walk the runway, both on his outfit and modeling. His paparazzi shots show a heavily pregnant Yazi coming out of a Gregg’s (“Those pregnancy cravings are _horrible_,” Graham noted) and having a very tasteful nip slip. 

He’s grateful for the praise, and even more grateful that he seems to be improving in the eyes of the judges, after that awfully silent week one. Within no time, he thinks as he starts to dedrag, he’ll be as much of a winner as Queenie was tonight. 

Dan’s sad to see Nina go, though, especially lip syncing up against Che. Nina’s funny and no nonsense but he’s glad he didn’t have to say goodbye to Che yet. Maybe that’ll just make the time when one of them eventually has to leave a lot harder, but he’s glad to have a friend in him. 

“Hey Yaz?” 

He turns to see Phil, fully out of drag and back into his street clothes. He smiles. 

“Hey.” 

“So I just wanted to say thank you,” he looks down at his shoes. “For telling me you watch my videos. I thought coming on here I might not be able to live down being That internet queen but...no one even mentioned it until you did.” 

“Really?” Dan’s shocked. Phil is so...popular, and you can’t really get around much as a queen these days without social media. 

“Yeah. So what you said it just—reminded me of why I’m here and why I do what I do. Because I want to, but because I like connecting with people. Not to brush you off as just a fan or whatever because you’re definitely not! But thanks. For saying something.” 

“Sure, Phil. And hey,” he leans forward and pats his arm. “If it helps, you mean a lot to a lot of people.”

Phil blushes. “Thanks Dan. I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“Yeah, ‘course. See you.” He smiles and Phil returns it, turning to walk out of the workroom. 

_Fuck,_ Dan thinks as he grabs the rest of his stuff to leave. Phil’s really got him stupidly whipped.


	3. bake off

"I. Love. Food. Okay? Okay. Forget everything you've seen about me being all about the _body_, they're going to have to wheel me off the bloody stage while I'm pulling my fucking O face." 

*

Week three is hard. Too hard for Dan’s liking but he supposes if he wasn’t trying so damn much in the first place it wouldn’t be as hard as it is. 

Dan and Phil both won the mini challenge they had earlier that day to kick off week three. It was a fucking blind taste test of deserts, Dan’s not surprised he won it. (And he’s not surprised Phil won either; true to his fanboy nature he knows how much Phil loves sweets). 

Unfortunately that meant they were put as team leaders for an acting challenge. Each team has a cooking show to work on, creating jokes and embodying characters off of vague descriptions that make Dan want to pull his hair out. 

He’s stressed, and that’s probably why he’s awake at 2 am, getting a coffee from the little 24 hour shop in the hotel lobby. 

Dan parks himself at a slightly greasy looking table in the shop and tosses his script on the table, wishing he could have his phone or laptop right now. Not even to cheat for inspiration, just so he could do anything but think about the challenge and deal with his stupid, panicked brain. Or watch whatever shit is on TV at this hour. 

He tries to find space on his already fully marked up script to write another note before giving up and throwing his pen down in frustration. Letting out a rough sigh, he looks up from his script and immediately locks eyes with—_Phil_? Dan feels his jaw drop open, and he closes it immediately, hoping Phil didn’t notice. 

“Can’t sleep either?” Phil asks, sipping from a cheap paper cup just like the one Dan has on the table in front of him. 

He’s wearing glasses and a bright green York University sweater over what appear to be...bright yellow emoji pyjamas? Dan wants to make some kind of facetious comment about his choice of colour combination but he bites his tongue, quickly looking back up at Phil’s face. His hair is in a flat quiff, a few strands of black falling over his forehead. 

“No,” Dan says. “I can’t.” 

Phil motions to the seat across from Dan, silently asking if he can sit, and Dan nods, noting the way his heart rate picks up a little. 

“It’s hard,” he says once he’s sat down. “Being a leader like this. Trying to be fair.” 

Dan watches Phil fiddle with the plastic lid on his cup. “Most people wouldn’t be fair. It’s everyone for themselves in this. Everyone’s gunning for the same prize, it’s easiest to do what’s best for you. Maybe even your friends.”

“Whatever gets you furthest right?” 

Dan shrugs. “Guess so. I stopped caring about being _that bitch_ when I hit my mid twenties. I’d rather be authentic, even if it hinders me here.” 

“Might not, though,” he looks up at Dan. “Better to not give people reason to turn on you.”

Dan hums, fiddling with his biro. 

“Probably good that we’re both horrifically in tune with our taste buds then, huh?” Dan says with a small smile, and to his surprise Phil laughs. 

It’s nice. It sounds genuine, and Dan likes the way it lights up his tired face. 

"Yeah. Yeah, I think you're right about that, Yaz."

"You can call me Dan," he blurts without thinking. "If you want to." 

Phil smiles at him, this small kind of smile like he’s about to tell him the most exciting little secret. 

“Okay,” he says, and starts to get up. “Well I’d better go back to my room and work, and let you get on with yours, Dan.” 

“See you tomorrow?” Phil asks, giving him that sweet smile again. 

“‘Course,” he replies, and then Phil’s gone.

For a second, Dan wonders if he’s dreaming. But after digging his nails into his palm, and noting the tiny puddle of milky coffee Phil managed to leave behind on the table Dan knows for certain he isn’t. 

He wonders if he made things with Phil weird. They seemed to be going so well—all things considered after only knowing each other for two weeks—and he hopes he didn’t just fuck it all up. 

Dan tries to shake away the thought and work but soon enough 6 AM rolls around and he’s trudging up to his room with only half a sentence written and Phil plaguing his mind. 

*

Somehow, the rest of the week goes on startlingly similar to the start of it. 

Dan doesn’t sleep. He gets a few hours here and there, but he’s on edge, feeling far too much anxiety and pressure than he thinks is necessary. 

“You okay, love?” Che asks him in some form at least twice every day. Dan always says he’s fine, just tired. Che’s obviously never convinced by this, the look on his face always a mix of concern and annoyed disbelief. 

Dan’s glad to have Che in this race with him. He cares, and Dan cares back, and as the days go by Dan finds that there’s never one that goes by where they aren’t pissing themselves laughing together. 

It’s nice to have a friend like Che, so Dan feels bad lying to him. But he doesn’t want Che to be any more concerned than he already is; he’s the kind of person that’s too nice for their own good. He doesn’t need to be distracted from the competition because of Dan. 

Besides, Dan...has Phil. Somehow. He’s not sure how, but they’ve gotten into a routine. One of them will arrive at the shop in the hotel lobby, buy coffee, find a table and wait for the other to show up. (They’ve both learned that Phil takes his coffee with as much sugar and cream as possible, and Dan takes his black unless he can get his hands on a dairy substitute. It’s handy, for when they buy each other drinks.)

It’s probably against the rules for them to meet up like this, scripts in hand and ready to talk about the challenge. But no one catches them together and it’s not like much talking about the competition actually happens. In fact, despite their mutual anxiety about being team leaders in this challenge, they hardly even talk about it. Dan thinks maybe that’s the point of these meetings, to distract each other and take the edge off the anxiety, but regardless, he’s grateful. 

They become fast friends, finding out they have a lot in common—well, _Phil_ finds out Dan has a lot in common with him. Dan knows his online stalking skills have been finessed over the years through being a fan of Phil. But even so, it’s a natural kind of connection. If Dan weren’t an awful cynic he’d go on about the stars aligning just right for them to meet and become friends or some other kind of bullshit. 

But right now he’s just grateful to have had someone support him and to offer that support back. 

“I’m kind of really terrified to be here,” Phil says quietly one night, and it catches Dan off guard. 

They’re in Dan’s room, papers and pens discarded at the foot of Dan’s bed, and some rerun of a shitty soap on the TV in the background. 

“Oh?” Dan says, grabbing the remote to mute the TV. 

Phil nods. “I’ve always wanted to be on a show like this, you know? And with my career, this is the perfect one! But my—”

He cuts himself off with a sigh, shaking his head.

“It’s okay,” Dan says softly. “It’s scary to be here, to actually put yourself in this competition for such high stakes, and to try and get through every week.” 

“My—my anxiety has been off the charts since I came here,” Phil laughs humorlessly. “You’re right about where the fear is, aside from my own irrationality. I keep trying to tell myself that it’s more about the experience than anything else but I’m so terrified of any option. Even being safe.” 

“Go big or go home.” 

“Exactly. It’s like either I win or I should just leave. The whole point is to show that you’re _the best_, and I know it’s stupid to think that way because it doesn’t work like that, but my brain isn’t getting the memo.” 

Dan feels similarly. Phil always seems so confident, so endearingly messy and carefree he never would have thought that he would harbour the same feelings as Dan. But maybe that’s Dan’s fault for treating him like he’s only made up of what he puts out into the world. 

“I feel the same way. It’s hard not to...spiral, I guess. To stay in the game when you know things can fall apart in an instant, and when you feel like even getting the wrong look from someone will make you fall apart.” 

He glances over at Phil and sees him nodding, feeling relief wash over him. Thank god he’s saying the right things. 

“But we still made it here. Best of the best, right?” Phil snorts and it makes Dan smile. “It’s scary and we’re allowed to feel scared, but we’re also here and we’re fighting tooth and nail to fucking win this. We’ve got this.” 

Phil agrees, thanking him, and telling him he’ll keep it in mind. 

Turns out, Phil doesn’t really need to. At least not that week. Dan’s entire team is up for elimination and he’s not surprised. Liz and Maddoria royally fucked up, lighting a fire in Dan that he struggles to control. He didn’t spend the whole week agonizing over his team to have them literally forget their lines and fuck up the comedic timing so awfully that you could cut the awkward tension with a knife. So he holds onto that conversation with Phil as the judges scrutinize his team and tell him his bake off themed runway look as a black forest gateau doesn’t “embody the Yazi they’ve come to know over the last few weeks”. Dan resists the urge to roll his eyes. 

But it’s fine because Dan’s safe and Liz goes home after Maddoria wins the lip sync. He even pats Maddoria on the back after the cameras stop rolling and tells her she did her best. She laughs in his face but he figures saying it didn’t hurt. After all, they’re both safe. 

*

Dan spends hours tossing and turning before giving up and stomping down to the lobby to grab a coffee. Might as well spend tonight like he spent the rest of the week. 

He doesn't feel good, he realizes in the lift. It doesn't feel good to just be safe anymore, especially after the week he's had. He wonders if maybe he's just tired, that the feeling will turn into gratitude, just as soon as he gets a good night's sleep. He hopes it will, at least. He's still in the race, he still has a chance at the crown, at the cash, at the fame and glory at the end of the tunnel. 

Though, he thinks when he steps off the lift, he's not entirely selfish enough to only care about the end goal. Competition or not, he's glad to have these new people in his life. (That is, if no one stabs a bitch in the back. He crosses his fingers that nothing of the sort happens...well, at least not to him).

He gets his usual cheap black coffee when he enters the shop, and parks himself at the empty sugar and cream station. Dan grabs a stir stick just to give him something to do, and as he plonks it into his drink he feels a tap on his shoulder. 

Dan nearly jumps out of his skin, and turns, ready to cuss out whoever the fuck decided to scare the shit out of him at two in the morning. The words audibly fizzle out of his mouth, like he's blowing a half hearted raspberry, when he sees Phil. 

He's smirking, clearly pleased that he managed to make Dan practically shit himself.

"We've got to stop meeting like this," Phil says, putting his own coffee down on the station. 

"Have we?" Dan asks somewhat breathlessly, his heart still beating fast from the scare. 

Phil dumps a load of cream and sugar into his coffee. "Mm." 

"Anywhere else you'd prefer to meet then?" 

He puts a lid on his coffee and looks up at Dan. "Are you busy? Planning on sleeping?" 

He knows he's being suggestive. It makes Dan want to laugh. Clearly getting a coffee at two in the morning connotes the opposite of sleep. 

Dan wouldn't mind the company, anyway. Better than being left with his thoughts. Better than flicking through whatever is on TV right now, which is what he was planning on doing. He thinks Phil definitely feels the same way, going off his slightly bloodshot eyes and the purple rings underneath them. 

"What do you think?" Dan says finally, offering Phil a crooked smile. 

"Good. Come with me?" 

*

They end up back at Phil's room, an old episode of Home or Away on the telly. They drink their coffees and bicker over the choices, and Dan ends up being extremely appalled at Phil's wish for carpeted floors. 

It's nice, though. So fucking nice. Dan kind of feels like he's known Phil forever, but in reality while he may have been watching his videos and tutorials for years, it's only been three weeks and he really doesn't actually know him all that well. 

He tries to ignore how the feeling makes his crush burn harder in his chest, how a little thrill shoots through him at the idea of getting to know Phil better. At knowing that Phil _wants_ Dan around him, and to know him better. 

Ignoring it doesn't work, though, as the next rerun of the show starts up. As soon as the away destination, a suburb outside of Orlando, Florida, appears, Dan sees Phil's face scrunch up out of the corner of his eye. 

"Alright?" Dan asks softly, watching Phil take his glasses off and rub his eyes. 

It takes him a moment to reply. 

"I—no. No, not really." Phil sighs. "I miss my mum. I'm really close with her and it's weird not to talk to her at least every second day. We used to watch this show together all the time. My family goes on holiday to Orlando every year too." 

It's not something Dan can relate to, having left home without looking back as soon as he was able to, but the pain in Phil's expression and voice pulls at him. 

"I'm so sorry, Phil," he lays a hand on his arm. "I can't imagine how hard that must be. But...but maybe you'll get to phone home? I bet as we go on that'll be one of the prizes." 

Phil nods slowly. 

"And I bet your mum is so proud of you for doing this. You're taking your career to the next level, to an international stage like you haven't done before. You're outside your bedroom doing makeup and skits. You're on RuPaul's fucking Drag Race, Phil. I bet she's so proud." 

"Yeah," he smiles weakly. "You're right. If anything this will give us more to talk about. I—it's a weird career, drag. But this is something she'll understand about it." 

"There you go," Dan rubs his arm. "It's going to be okay, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah it will be." Phil takes a deep breath, and smiles at Dan. "Thank you." 

"It's no worries. It's a competition but I think it would be wrong if we didn't help each other with stuff when needed." 

"You're nice," Dan scowls at this and Phil laughs. "Maybe too nice. Not everyone would say the same thing."

"I'm an edgy queen, okay? None of this nice bullshit. My nana just raised me to be a polite young lady." 

Phil scoffs. "Clearly not polite enough to indulge me on my carpeted dreams." 

"That's because your carpeted dreams are horrendous and hardwood is superior in every way." 

Dan's glad he's back to joking. He's happy to be there, happy to help, but dealing with other people's feelings is hard, let alone someone he's a fan of and decided he's down with fucking. 

"Yeah? What's your rationale for that again?" 

"Seriously?" He rolls his eyes. "Fine, maybe you'll see the light this time. Firstly, they're easier go clean." 

Phil narrows his eyes. 

"And more hygienic too; easier to disinfect a shiny piece of hardwood than a whole ass carpet. Not to mention—"

His breath hitches slightly when Phil leans in a little. 

"—aesthetically it's, er, easier to deal with. You can put a bloody carpet on your hardwood if you want, and decide to take it away later on. Can't do that with an entirely carpeted floor." 

"No, I guess you can't." Phil says in a low voice. 

There's a slight bit of excited panic running through Dan. He's never been in this situation with someone he admires before, but he's been in this situation. More times than he can count, really. So he hones that in, and lowers his voice to match Phil's, leaning in further. 

"Don't need to worry about carpet burn with hardwood either." 

"No? Hmm. I guess that's true," Phil closes the space between them even further. "But why would I need to worry about carpet burn?" 

_Cheeky shit._

Dan feels breathless. "Hotel's got carpeted floors. I could show you."

"Oh could you?" 

It's then that Phil cups his cheek, bringing Dan's face to his. 

"Can I?" Phil asks, their noses brushing. Dan nods and then in the next instant they're kissing. 

It starts out slow and soft, but as quickly as it starts Dan starts straddling Phil, who's forcing Dan's mouth open. 

He grinds down on Phil, feeling heat course through his body from where their hardening cocks rub together through the fabric on their pyjamas. 

The longer it goes, the more messy they are about it, but soon enough Dan’s kneeling shirtless at the edge of the bed on the carpet and pulling down Phil’s pyjamas. 

Phil’s cock is bigger than Dan was expecting, but he is far from complaining. He licks up the underside of it, pausing at the head to circle his lips around his, sucking up the bitter beads of precome. He relishes in the way Phil groans and grips the back of Dan’s head as he does it. 

Dan doesn’t know how much time passes between getting on the floor and Phil coming across his chest, but he figures his lack of focus on time is much better than the opposite. 

Besides, Phil’s pulling Dan up onto the bed and has his mouth on his dick and it feels fantastic, really putting time so far back in his mind he doubts he’ll worry about it until his alarm goes off the next morning. 

(Or rather, until Phil’s alarm goes off the next morning. Not that they really slept, but Dan thinks it’s the best sleepless night he’s had in probably forever.)

**Author's Note:**

> title from "I Want To Break Free" by Queen. 
> 
> you can like/reblog this on [tumblr](https://obsessivelymoody.tumblr.com/post/186826520252/break-free-rating-e-summary-dan-is-a-competitor) if you want.


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